Anger (One Shot)
by Becca Galloway
Summary: After Tariq Alaman left Paris, Porthos is questioning himself. When a new mission arises, Porthos is unsure of his place, both there and as a Musketeer...


A/N: this extract follows on from s2e3, 'The Good Traitor'. All previous storyline credit to the BBC

"Porthos, can I see you in my office please?" Treville asked. Porthos, who had been in the middle of a sparring match with Athos raised his eyebrow at the older Musketeer.

"Don't look at me," Athos replied. "I don't know a thing." Porthos chucked his sword onto the floor and made his way up to Treville's office. He shut the door and stood in front of the Captain.

"I just wanted to check up on you, make sure you were OK. Your leg seems to have healed well. But being shot with an arrow and being kidnapped takes its toll, you know."

"I'm fine Captain. Honestly. It's happened to all of us at some point but we have to deal with it and get on," Porthos replied.

"True. Back you go." Porthos smiled and left the office. He met Aramis and D'Artagnan in the courtyard below.

"Where's Athos gone?"

"Not sure," D'Artagnan replied.

"I think to drink away his sorrows," chipped in Aramis.

"Another match?" Porthos asked.

"Why not," Aramis said picking up his sword. "Oh, what did Treville want?"

"Just asking me how I was doing after that." Aramis nodded. "Ready?" Porthos asked. They drew swords then jabbed at each other. Porthos was going particularly forcefully.

"Oi, ease up," Aramis said jokingly. D'Artagnan looked on, chuckling. Since becoming a Musketeer, he'd loved the laughter and lightheartedness his friends brought alongside the excitement and danger that came with the job. He knew he still had work to do but he knew he was getting there.

Twenty minutes later and Porthos was the victor, knocking Aramis to the floor with a single blow.

"What about you whelp?" Porthos gestured to D'Artagnan as Aramis picked himself up and dusted himself down nursing what on his cheek would become a bruise.

"Thanks for that," he remarked to Porthos.

"Had to be done," the large Musketeer replied. "Now just to beat this one," he continued pointing to the young Gascon.

"Like to see you try," D'Artagnan joked. Aramis raised an eyebrow at Porthos and walked away laughing, his musket rested on his shoulder. As he was about to walk into the living quarters, he was stopped by Treville.

"Aramis, can I have a word please?" Aramis nodded and followed his captain into his office.

"I know Porthos doesn't like to share his emotions. He told me he was fine but I know he can be vulnerable behind the strong mask he puts up. It's a lot to deal with, what he's just been through. Do you know if there's anything going on?"

"Not that I know of sir," Aramis told him. "But I'll keep an eye on him, let you know if anything changes."

"Thank you. I know I can rely on you to do so. Get a good nights sleep. I need the four of you for a job in the morning." Aramis left the office and went back downstairs where D'Artagnan had fared no better than him. He was kneeling with Porthos' sword to his throat and the large Musketeer wore a sheepish grin as he let go of the boy.

"Told you," Aramis quipped. D'Artagnan breathed in deeply rolling his shoulder.

"Everything alright?" D'Artagnan asked, not failing to notice that both men had been called upon by Treville.

"Yeah, fine," Aramis replied. D'Artagnan nodded, relieved there was nothing to worry about. Despite what Treville had said, Aramis believed Porthos was fine. "Oh, he wants us tomorrow morning. No idea what for." Porthos rolled his eyes exasperatedly.

"Let's just hope Athos returns in one piece," D'Artagnan said. The others agreed.

The man in question staggered into the Garrison, a little worse for wear a couple of hours later. Aramis and Porthos were there to greet him.

"Nice of you to show your face," the sharpshooter said. Athos collapsed and Porthos caught him before he could hit the ground. "Let's get him upstairs," Aramis continued. The two of them propped Athos up between them and took him to his quarters. Porthos helped him undress as Aramis got water and washed his face.

"Sleep now Athos," Porthos said soothingly and they both left the room. They both entered their respective living quarters and bedded down for the night. Aramis wondered what Treville wanted them to do the next day. Hopefully nothing too dangerous. They'd had enough recently to last them a lifetime.

They woke up the next morning. Athos was already sitting in full uniform in the courtyard, surprising the state he'd come back in last night.

"You're awake," Aramis said.

"You're late," Athos grumbled back to him.

"Yeah by like three minutes." Athos shrugged as the rest of the men joined them for morning roll call. Treville joined them a minute later. He endured they were all there.

"Athos, Aramis, Porthos, D'Artagnan I have a job for you. The rest of you know what you're doing. You four, my office please. Dismissed." The other Musketeers got onto the tasks they'd been given and the four of them followed the captain. Aramis shut the door behind the five of them.

"After the situation with Tariq Alaman, some Moors have been asking to present a petition to the King about thier equal rights. I need two of you to escort them to do it. The other two can run an errand. I need you to pick up an important letter for the King from a unknown rendezvous that you'll get the information for. So Athos and..." Treville's eyes moved to Porthos who got hopeful but then rested on the young Gascon. "D'Artagnan, you join him. Porthos and Aramis, you can do the other duties." Aramis nodded but Porthos' face became enraged. The sharpshooter dug his friend in the side.

"Not now," he whispered.

"Right, Aramis, your rendezvous is half a days ride away. An escort will meet you at the palace to lead the way. Saddle up." The four did as they were asked, Porthos all but sullenly. Athos turned to Aramis.

"What's wrong with him?"

"I think he wanted your job. It will be fine." Athos nodded and mounted, followed by the other three.

"Meet you back here when you get back," Athos said to the other two Inseparables. They nodded and he and D'Artagnan rode away. Aramis and Porthos soon followed in the direction of the palace. Aramis eyed his friend who was barely keeping his temper under control. He would have to around Louis' escort.

"You OK to do this?" Aramis asked his friend warily. Porthos gave him a stare that made him shiver. Aramis knew where he stood then.

They dismounted and walked into the palace. They met Rochefort in the main entrance. Aramis sighed. Why did it have to be him.

"Musketeers, this is Martin Lefevre. He's to take you to the place where the letter is being kept. Don't fail." Rochefort, along with Aramis had eyes on Porthos. Rochefort knew what had happened and knew that the Moors were meeting the King today. "Don't fail," he repeated. Aramis gave him a wry smile and Rochefort left the room.

"M. Lefevre, I am Aramis and this is Porthos." Lefevre nodded curtly and them to the horses and the three of them rode off. To Aramis he seemed snobby and uptight. Aramis looked to his still stubborn friend.

"Porthos, I'm going to take you back to the Garrison. I don't care what you say. You're not doing this." Aramis rode up to Lefevre who was leading from the front. "Monsieur, we have one stop to make. I promise I'll make it quick." Lefevre shrugged but sullenly agreed. They made it to the Garrison quickly.

"Captain!" Aramis called. Treville emerged from his office and was confused when he saw them back. Aramis ran up to his office.

"What's going on?"

"Porthos needs to stay here. I can get the letter myself. He's going to burst if someone says anything wrong. I don't want to risk that around Lefevre."

"OK. You've done the right thing," Treville sighed looking on at Porthos who was dismounting his horse. "Porthos," Treville called him over. "You're staying here."

"Fine. I didn't want to go anyway," he replied, shoving past them.

"Aramis, go with Lefevre. We can't keep him waiting any longer." Aramis nodded and remounted and left the Garrison behind Lefevre. Treville watched him go heavy hearted. He now had to go and talk to Porthos.

Athos and D'Artagnan had finally met the three representatives of the group of Moors who were to talk to the King, half a days ride from Paris. The Musketeers introduced himself and the five strong group started riding back to the palace.

Athos wasn't sure how he felt about the situation. The business with Tariq Alaman had been a disaster. After promising France gunpowder and a cipher that would change the fate of the war against Spain, both Alaman's daughter Samara and Porthos had been kidnapped, before Alaman and the cipher had been destroyed in a house fire. Alaman had done all of this in the first place because he wanted the voices of the Moors to be heard. Athos wasn't surprised that others were following in his footsteps, but he wasn't sure if the way they were going about it was the best and most effective way to get their point across. He and D'Artagnan talked.

"I'm worried about Porthos," D'Artagnan stated. The older Musketeer contemplated this for a minute before sighing and nodding in his agreement.

"He'll be OK. Aramis'll take care of him. If he is too disruptive or unprofessional then Aramis knows to simply return him to the Garrison. Treville doesn't want our already shaky reputation with the King to be rocked any further."

"OK," D'Artagnan replied. The two rode on, the Moors in tow.

Back at the Garrison, Treville had entered Porthos' quarters where the large Musketeer was sitting on the edge of his bed, head in hands. Treville slammed the door and Porthos sat up before groaning. Treville was the last person he wanted to be around just now.

"Porthos, I need you to be entirely honest with me. Why has it got to this point? To the point where it interferes with your duty and one of your comrades feels you too unfit to carry out a simple task for the King?"

"You don't understand. And Aramis shouldn't have done what he did. I would have been fine."

"Clearly not. I need to know what is going on."

"You want to know what's going on?" Porthos asked fiercely, his tone of voice getting angrier with each word. "You really want to know? You don't trust me, the others are losing faith in me and I know I'm failing. It was evident on Rochefort's face earlier that I'm not trusted." Treville sighed deeply then sat beside Porthos on the bed.

"I say this without exaggeration that you are one of the best soldiers this regiment had ever produced. You are courageous and fiercely loyal to your fellow soldiers. But you have been through a huge ordeal and naturally it takes time to heal from something like that. Clearly it got to you more than you first let on. Aramis did the right thing. Don't blame him. But don't blame yourself either. Blame the people who took you."

"I knew you were considering me for escorting the Moors today. Why didn't you choose me? It's because you don't trust me, in case I'll 'flip' if it reminds me of what happened."

"Of course I trust you but I chose to go with D'Artagnan instead because one, he needs the experience and two, I'll admit I wasn't sure if you'd be able to handle it. That doesn't mean I don't trust you." Treville left Porthos to contemplate his captain's final words.

Aramis had reached the mysterious rendezvous. He was taken through by Lefevre and met one of Lefevre's guards.

"Remove your weapons," the guard instructed Aramis. The Musketeer instantly became wary and suspicious. "Monsieur, we cannot let you proceed if you are armed." Aramis reluctantly removed his pistol and sword belt and dagger before placing them at the door.

"Any concealed weapons?" The man asked. Aramis shook his head but the man patted him down anyway. Once he was satisfied, he told Aramis to follow him. The Musketeer was led through to a room. The guard signalled for him to sit at one side of the table. Aramis sat and Lefevre sat at the other. The letter sat in the middle of the table. Lefevre tapped his fingers on the table.

"This is for the King. I can't spill the confidential contents to a lowly Musketeer for obvious reasons." Aramis set his jaw at this comment. "It is for the King's eyes only. Tell him he has a week to reply. Very well, that is it. Retrieve your weapons and make a hasty return to the palace." Aramis nodded curtly. He picked up the letter and tucked it inside his doublet. He went through to pick up his weapons and once he was armed again, mounted his horse and made his way back to the palace.

D'Artagnan and Athos had made it back to the palace with the group of Moors. The King met them and they all bowed. The Moors made thier presentation and left but as they left, Aramis was entering the palace. The other two Musketeers decided to hang back. Aramis bowed to Louis.

"Your Majesty, I have the letter from M. Lefevre." Aramis reached into his pocket and extracted the letter before handing it to the King.

"How long has he given me to reply?" Louis asked.

"A week, Sire."

"Well at least the Musketeers were able to complete one task successfully. Thank you Aramis." Aramis bowed and joined his brothers who had witnessed the entire thing. Athos raised an eyebrow at the obvious depletion in the number of Musketeers there was supposed to be there.

"Where is he?" D'Artagnan asked.

"At the Garrison," Aramis explained. "There was no way he could come on this. Let's head back and see how he's doing." They did exactly that. Treville met them in the courtyard as they dismounted and handed the reins over to the stable boys.

"How is he?" Aramis asked. Treville eyed each of them before replying.

"You'd better come up to my office." They followed him up the stairs. "Both missions completed successfully?"

"Yes sir," D'Artagnan said.

"Yes, sir," follows Aramis.

"Good. About Porthos. He believes that all of us have completely given up on him, that he's not trusted. I need the three of you now to talk to him and try to convince him otherwise. He'll respond best to you."

"Or he might completely freeze us out because he doesn't want to burden us with his problems," Aramis suggested.

"It has to be worth a try," said D'Artagnan in a tone that concluded the conversation. The three made thier way into Porthos' living quarters.

"Look, I know what you're going to say," Porthos said before the others could even have the chance to utter a word.

"Then believe us. Has any of us ever lied to you before?" D'Artagnan said.

"No," Porthos realised. He sighed, coming round to them. "I know. I'm sorry I shut you out. I'm sorry I blamed you 'Mis. I know you're there for me."

"Thank you for being honest," Aramis said. "And I don't mind that you blamed me. We're so close that we're going to have our fights. But all for one, remember? All for one."


End file.
